My Demonic Side
by Moiranna
Summary: It's like a drug. A dangerous way to be yourself while risking your humanity. Dante-centric


**Author: **Moiranna  
><strong>Title: <strong>My Demonic Side  
><strong>Theme<strong>: #28 - Sickness  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG  
><strong>Realm: <strong>Devil May Cry  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>Nuh-uh  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Dante, Vergil  
><strong>Genre: <strong>General  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Dante has a brain.  
><strong>Word-count<strong>: 752  
><strong>Summary:<strong> It's like a drug. A dangerous way to be yourself while risking your humanity. Dante-centric  
><strong>Notes: <strong>Courtesy to Backyard Babies for the title. I _might_ have been listening to the song when writing this.

* * *

><p>Being a half-breed is a kind of sickness. Sometimes I fear that the demonic side will take over all that I am, like some form of cancer eating up my humanity. The only thing is that it doesn't hurt. It feels so damned good to be in my demonic shape. Y'know when you're wearing clothes that sit too tight, that whenever you move you inwardly wince because they chafe in all the wrong places. It's an awkward process, and you just sigh with relief when you can take them off. Or when you sit in a cramped place, unable to move the way you'd like. Getting out of there and just stretching like a cat waking up from its nap, body and mind relieved. That's what it feels like when switching to demonic form.<p>

Every time I want to take a run around town just basking in that I'm finally able to _move_.

The downside is, as most people can guess, that my humanity shrinks back to a corner of my mind, and that the other half of me is given the reins. The part that doesn't really care if I accidentally kill some innocent bystanders. But never think that the other half is stupid, that would be a fatal mistake. We are the same, only with different outputs on life. Think of it as two individuals sharing the same body. My other half thinks that I am weak when I fight for control those precious few moments it takes before I can stop him from deciding that the person I want to kill quickly would make a nice slave.

We really don't get along, but we've learned to live with one another.

The bastard knows that he needs to keep me alive to be able to live himself, but it doesn't mean that he won't drag out on things that I'd rather not live through. Let's just say that there's a reason why I don't keep many human friends, or friends that are unable to defend themselves against me, whatever shape I might have.

In the same way I know that I need him. I owe my supernatural powers to him, and without his ability to heal damage that would kill a normal human being… well, I'd have to change career path to something with a 9 to 5 job or I'd be deader than a doornail.

He is ruthless, but prefers to think of himself as practical. He doesn't care for anything but himself, and in that way we are pretty much alike – for the most of the time. If he could be capable of the emotion he would pity me for my search for something good in humanity. He is the more feral of the two of us, there's no use denying that, even though that probably has affected how I act quite a bit over the years. I'm more brutal now than I were two decades ago.

Which leads me to my constant worry. I'm slowly losing this battle – the one of humanity. I fear that one day I'll wake up and not give a damn that my kills are too messy and that there might have been quite the dubious cause for why I'd gone after them. I dread the day I'll turn on humanity and start going after the cattle, err, I mean the _humans_.

As my inner demon phrased it "humans are like cattle. Once you startle them they'll all rush in blind panic towards whatever exit there is. However – if you start in the back it'll take longer before they smell the blood. Then it's just to cull them off, one by one. Like taking candy from a child. The glorious red just stretching wider and wider."

Yes, he's pretty intent on killing. Sociopathic bastard. Thankfully for me there are other ways to distract him, to slow the disease spreading in my mind. The ladies love us. Both the demonic and human ones.

But as the odds go there's a fifty-fifty chance that his disease will bring me down. That the demonic side will swallow the human side and leave me bent on wanting nothing but power, lust and death.

Hmm. Where do I recognize that from? Oh. Vergil. Aside from the "lust" part. I doubt he's ever gotten laid. Anyway – I've always liked a good battle, even though this one has been going on since… I was born. I've fought him for this long, and can probably manage for quite a while still.


End file.
